Mystery

It all began when he was just a boy. The first time it happened, he was playing hide and seek with his best friend in his Mama's farm. Before that day, it was only a tingle on his middle finger which he ignored. The feeling had gotten so intense during the game and wouldn’t go away, so he began to scratch it unconsciously while hiding behind a grain sac. The first sign was a red line at the back of his right hand. His Mama applied ointment on it without saying a word. She also refused to answer his questions. He never understood it fully. He could only describe his hands with one word; sentient. He came to accept it when he discovered he could change lives with only a touch. The more he healed, the more wrinkled it turned till it became the oldest part of his body. Everyday for forty years, he sat on the same chair, a low stool carved from the strongest of woods. He would link his fingers together and place them over his stomach, speaking quietly to himself. Little children called him strange and sang songs with his name. Young adults who didn’t understand avoided him. Others called him a seer. But those who knew who he really was sought his healing and advice.

My entry for @vermillionfox's flash fiction contest

Image is from the original post.